It’s official. Lada spokesman Igor Burenkov said in a statement, “Demand for the Classic has dropped a lot. It is time to say goodbye.”

Think of the longest-lived single-generation automobiles, and you’ll come up with names like the Volkswagen Sedan and Citröen 2CV, but you’ll be missing one important car that was initially obscured by the Iron Curtain: The VAZ/Lada 2101.

Fiat 124, the long-lived Lada's father

Based on the Fiat 124 sedan unveiled in 1966, the 2101 entered production in April 1970, at a new AvtoVAZ factory in Togliatti. This car differed from its Italian inspiration by its taller suspension, aluminum rear brake drums, thicker body steel and auxiliary manual fuel pump; its Fiat-sourced 1,198cc four-cylinder made 62 hp. The VAZ 2101 was renamed Lada (roughly translated, “Harmony”) and sold for decades in Europe, Japan, Australia and Great Britain. This car is now called the Lada 2107 “Classic,” and it’s powered by a 72hp, 1,568cc four.

This latest example follows a whopping 16.8 million units that have been built in 42 years of production. The Russian government-sponsored vehicle scrappage program (their Cash for Clunkers) meant that Classics were selling for €3,900 (about $5,600), down from the €5,200 ($7,500) MSRP, and sales grew accordingly. First quarter 2012 sales of the 2107 Classic dropped 76 percent, so Classic production has been wound down for good, the last example having been built on Monday, April 16.

14 Responses to “End of the road for the long-lived Lada 2107”

During the latter part of the Cold War — the late 1970s — these Ladas were also sold in Canada, and I always wondered what it would have been like to cross into the U.S. and tool around Buffalo or Burlington, Vt. in one. Would the border guards even let you in? Their chief attraction was that they were the cheapest new cars you could buy. In the showroom they seemed well-appointed, with nice fabric-covered seats, but I had a ride in one once and it seemed to me the noisiest, roughest car I’d ever experienced. Surely the Fiat was more refined; we had those in Canada too, in the early 1970s. Maybe the Lada version was reliable, does anyone remember?

My brother owned one of the “Canadian” Ladas in the early 1980s. Notorious cheapskate that he is, he bought the cheapest car he could find at the time and, at first impression, it seemed well-appointed. But it was the nastiest, most trouble-prone thing on the road, and despite the thicker steel that the factory promoted, was a ferocious ruster. He ended up unloading it after putting up with it for about 5 years and later admitted that it was not one of his better buying decisions.

Cheapskate hits it on the head. I’m sure people thought of them as thrifty, but a few years after they started selling them I remember the guys with one or two parts cars in the yard to keep one going – Cheapskates.
The only car I saw rust faster was the Dacia’s from the 80′s. They were already rusting on the lot!
Says something that in Canada the Lada was done in by competition from the Hyndai Pony!

A 1980s LADA 2105 was in my wife’s family from new; we drove it for its last 10 years in Bulgaria through the 1990s. There are endless stories about these cars, including our seeing one being used in southern Bulgaria as a tractor. These cars were made of iron, easy and cheap to repair and unexpectedly roomy and reliable. Let me share a couple of LADA stories.

One time we were staying at a hotel with our LADA parked in its basement. When we wanted to leave, it was blocked by another LADA whose owner could not be located. The hotel staff said don’t worry, we’ll move it. Within a few minutes they had borrowed some keys from local LADA owners, and by gosh, one of them started the blocking car. “No problem,” they said, “LADA’s only have one of four or five keys.” Whether true, we were on our way. (That could also explain how our trunk was once robbed – an issue cured with a short chain and master lock inside the trunk).

Another time we were showing an American friend around SW Bulgaria and driving into a small city, the engine died. No amount of cranking would start it. We coasted into town and to the curb. A gent sitting nearby instantly diagnosed a broken timing belt. In the LADA engine, valves didn’t interfere with pistons, so… 100 yards back on the street to a parts store, a new belt for $10. 100 yards the other way, a backyard mechanic who fitted the new belt for another $10. $20, three beers and we were on our way.

Run out of gas, dead battery … no issue. Pop in a couple of liters, pound that mechanical fuel pump, a quick push (two people would do) and you were on your way. Snow: no problem – add local snow tires (from Vidin, called Vidinki gumi) and lots of ground clearance. End of the road tracks: ditto. Amazing vehicles.

At one point 10 years ago a new five-speed LADA could be had in Bulgaria for $4000. But the only air conditioning you could fit was a dash-mounted fan, and we were tired of wind-whipped travel in the Bulgarian sun, so … end of story. But for $4000 we were sorely tempted.

I know this is an old story and a long shot, but if anyone in this comment thread, including Grigor, would like to speak with me for a story about the Lada 2107′s design and history, please get in touch: millerjchristopher@gmail.com. Story will be published in a Dutch design magazine. Cheers!

Following a low-speed head on crash which meant that my Cortina Estate was off the road for a few weeks while the insurance companies wrangled and then the local Ford agent ironed out the creases, I bought a Lada 1300 at the local car auction for £140.

It eventually went after about twelve weeks’ use, for a small profit, but, apart from the staggering fuel consumption, ran fine. After some digging about in the records I found out that it had been a taxi in Aberdeen! If a car can stand that it can stand anything.

I was assigned a Lada in the Sultanate of Oman in 1990. That and my first roundabout caused some chuckles from the Omani drivers while I was sorting out how to get the Lada moving and how to get out of the roundabout. It was a memorable experience, the American in the Russian car.

We ended up with these in New Zealand back in the late 80s/early 90s because the Russians defaulted on a payment for a few shiploads of butter and the NZ Dairy Board accepted about 1000 Ladas in lieu of payment. Right from the start they were considered little more than a joke (right up there with the 60′s Skodas). My stepdaughter inherited a near new one from her grandfather, and despite having only 5000 miles on the clock, it was the clunkiest rattliest, most unreliable car I’ve ever come across. At the 10,000 mile mark, things like door handles, window winders, indicator switches and even one of the headlights just started ‘falling off”, but by then of course it was out of warranty. Long story short, the poor thing just fell to pieces and was towed to the crusher with a mere 25,000 miles up. I was bought up with English cars and we all know how ‘quirky’ they can be, but this Lada set a whole new standard for sloppiness and unreliability. No wonder they lost the Cold War if this was the best their engineers could come up with.

Oh, and I also recall an item on the British Top Gear show a few years ago about Russian seamen who were buying up second hand Ladas in England (dirt cheap, because no-one wanted them), and shipping them back home across the North Sea as DECK CARGO, then reselling them at a handsome profit.

And lets not forget the stretched Lada limousines (and I use that word in its absolutely broadest sense) that are so common on the streets of Havana.

Had one in Canada years ago, while not the most reliable thing on earth it could be fixed with the factory toolkit which was a rock and a bottle of vodka, if the rock did’t work use the vodka. I had to send mine to the slaughterhouse at about 310000km when I bent it hitting a curb at about 50km/hr